


Hot and Cold

by 1395857



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ice Cream, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Spontaneous Orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1395857/pseuds/1395857
Summary: https://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/4777.html?thread=14705321#t14705321
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Hot and Cold

**Author's Note:**

> https://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/4777.html?thread=14705321#t14705321

Sherlock often tended to forget that Lestrade had a child. Not something necessary to keep on his hard drive, everyone was a parent nowadays, and knowing Lestrade had an five-year-old daughter named Amelia that he'd been raising alone since his wife's death three and a half years ago did nothing to change his overall evaluation of Lestrade. It did, however, tend to cause awkward situations. Such as the one he was in the midst of at the very moment.

'Sherlock,' said Lestrade, cutting over his thoughts, 'you could at least pretend like you're enjoying yourself. For Amelia's sake,' the last part said sotto voce.

Sherlock glanced over at the diminutive blonde girl sitting beside her father, elbows propped on the undoubtedly unsanitary picnic table and licking at an ice cream cone. A boring, ordinary child. Sherlock had had to become boring and ordinary for her as well - he'd even worn jeans and forced a smile every now and then since it was her first time meeting 'Daddy's new friend' and Lestrade had insisted that Sherlock make a good first impression. And now they were at a boring and ordinary carnival, and Sherlock was beginning to lose his mind.

'I am having the time of my life,' deadpanned Sherlock. Lestrade glared momentarily but his expression softened no doubt due to the presence of his daughter.

'Why are you so tall?' asked Amelia suddenly. 'People get taller when they get older, but you're taller than Daddy even though he's older. What does a detective do? You have long hair like a girl. Are you going to be my new mommy?'

Sherlock looked at Lestrade in something like desperation. Lestrade only chuckled and stood up from the bench. 'Come on, Sherlock, nothing your massive intellect can't handle. Now I am going to follow Amy's example and get some ice cream. Want some?'

'No thank you, Greg,' Sherlock said, remembering the existence of pleasantries. He watched Lestrade walk off, then started talking about height was a function of one's genes rather than one's age. Amelia sat listening raptly, quiet for the first time this entire afternoon.

Sherlock had just started to sketch out a Punnett square on a carnival napkin when Lestrade returned, holding an ice cream bar in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. 'Thought you might be thirsty,' he said, offering the bottle to Sherlock. Sherlock gave him a smile - he was handing out smiles left and right today - he had been thirsty, but he'd forgotten up until now. 'Anyway, what are you and Amy here working on?'

'Mendelian genetics,' said Sherlock.

'You know she's five, right?' said Lestrade. He laughed though, and started to eat his ice cream. Sherlock watched him out of the corner of his eye - pink tongue darting out to lick at the chocolate shell, straight teeth breaking off a piece, each swallow followed by a tiny smile -

Oh, this was bad. Sherlock knew that if he kept watching Lestrade, he was asking for trouble. He turned back to Amelia and said something about chromosomes, all the while trying to ignore her father's frankly lewd manner in which he consumed the ice cream bar. But Lestrade was hard to ignore, and he kept making noises of enjoyment -

\- the same kind of noises Lestrade made when he had Sherlock in his mouth, or when he was pushing into Sherlock's arse.

'Why'd you stop?' said Amelia. She tugged at his arm. 'Keep going.'

'My apologies,' said Sherlock. He was well and truly hard now and all he wanted was for his erection to go away. This was not the time or the place. 'I've lost my concentration. Perhaps you can ask your father to explain further?'

Lestrade looked concerned. 'What's the matter, Sherlock?' he said. He leaned over the picnic table, and as he did so his ice cream bar dripped over his hand. Sherlock closed his eyes and willed himself not to do anything humiliating. When he opened them again Lestrade had bent his head and was licking the creamy liquid off his palm and fingers and Sherlock couldn't help letting out a groan. He was turned on beyond belief and all Lestrade was doing was eating ice cream.

Lestrade's head whipped up at that. His eyes narrowed and Sherlock saw him piecing it together - he wasn't a DI for nothing. Suddenly Lestrade got up and moved to his side of the bench. 'You're unbelievable,' he said, sitting down so that their bodies were touching. 'You are something else, Sherlock.'

'It was your fault,' said Sherlock petulantly. 'You and your carnival food.' And the fact that Sherlock had the libido of a teenager these days, since before meeting Lestrade he'd had no desire for sex but now he thought about it constantly.

'You could have closed your eyes,' said Lestrade. But he laughed and squeezed Sherlock's knee under the table. 'Amelia,' he said to his daughter who was looking at them curiously. 'Can you draw a picture for me, sweetheart?'

'A picture of what?' asked Amelia.

'Hmm... can you draw for me your favorite thing about today?' said Lestrade. Amelia nodded happily and bent her head towards the paper napkin, drawing something completely unrecognizable. Sherlock looked at Lestrade in panic - what was the DI planning? They were still in public and Lestrade hadn't moved his hand from Sherlock's knee. He wasn't going to... was he?

'So what's your favorite thing about today?' said Lestrade. He was smiling widely. He moved his hand further up Sherlock's thigh, and then rested it on the front of Sherlock's fly. Sherlock glared at Lestrade fully now since Amelia was too entranced by her 'art' to notice the intensity of the look. 'Are you having fun?'

'You might say that,' said Sherlock, feeling embarrassment and arousal in equal amounts. Lestrade was rubbing gently with the heel of his hand - causing friction from the material of his shorts against his erection, and Sherlock tried his hardest to remain as still as he possibly could. It was far from easy but the last thing he wanted was for Lestrade's daughter - and countless strangers - to realize Lestrade was helping masturbate him under a park bench at a carnival on a Saturday afternoon. Normally Sherlock didn't care about social conventions but he felt like something this taboo definitely merited no small amount of embarrassment.

'I should have given you a lick of my ice cream,' said Lestrade teasingly. He moved his hand a little rougher, mindful to keep his arm steady. Sherlock could feel himself about to come, and put his hand over Lestrade's. He would have pushed up into Lestrade's hand but instead he tried his hardest not to move his hips or let out a moan as his orgasm hit.

Sherlock gradually came down from his high. Lestrade was looking at him with affection and lust mixed in his expression and he squeezed Sherlock's hand before letting go. 'Feeling better?'

'Yes,' said Sherlock. 'Thank you, Greg.' He was sure he was blushing, and the wet spot in his shorts would soon become uncomfortable. He excused himself to clean up in the restroom, and when he came back Lestrade was sitting on Amelia's side of the table again looking at her drawing.

'Sherlock, hey, come have a look at this,' said Lestrade.

Sherlock sat down on the other side of Amelia, who reacted happily at Sherlock's return. He looked down at the drawing, trying to figure it out. 'Who are these?' he asked. None of the figures on the paper looked remotely human.

'This is Daddy, this is me, and this is you,' she said.

Lestrade caught Sherlock's eye over Amelia's head and leaned in very quickly to kiss him. 'What's your drawing called, Amy?'

'It's called 'My Happy Family',' she said. When Sherlock smiled at that, it was an honest smile.


End file.
